A Gamer's Guide 211 (Patreon)

I’m listening to the back-and-forth, but more than that, I’m looking down at my hand. At my fingers. My claws might not be able to get through, but I have more weapons than that. Specifically…

<[Touch of Reversed Protection (Lv.2)]

Any [Protection] skill can be used in

the reverse to cause the effect that it

protects from, to the strength of the skill.

The protection level that may be reversed

depends on the skill level. The touch may only be

used once per protection level.

Current power: Level 2.>

I clench my hand into a fist and turn to look at Goss again. “Are you done, Goss?”

“H—huh?” Goss says, turning to me. “Oh—yeah! Of course, yeah. I just… I’ll show you the flame breath later. I suppose…”

I run at him, ignoring the prickling feeling in my chest as I slide under a massive claw swipe, leap over a whip of the tail, and finally take a spot beneath his exposed belly. I put my hand to it, tapping my fingers in a certain rhythm.

<[Touch of Reversed Stroke Protection (Lv.1)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Cold Protection (Lv.2)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Hallucination Protection (Lv.1)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Heat Resistance (Lv.10)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Dehydration Protection (Lv.2)]>

That should just about do it. It was a shame that I couldn’t kill him in a less painful way, but—

A massive hand suddenly grabs me, dragging me out from under his stomach and up to his face. “Aha, gotcha!” He grins like a cat with its mouse caught. “Thought you could scurry out of my reach, eh? Well, not so! I may look like a big lunk, but beneath that, I’m all muscle! It’s just that my dune hasn’t all gone away yet, which is totally normal for dragons my age, I’ll have you know. Well, one thing that is fully developed is my breath, and if I just shoot it right up and you above me, then I probably won’t burn any of Father Moonlight’s garden. So it should be okay. R—right?”

I follow Goss’ tentative gaze to the priest. He gives a look of unbridled suspicion before shrugging. Goss turns back to me, grinning. “Right! Prepare yourself for your last moments, human Kitty!” He holds me up by the back of my rat kilt—my rilt, if you will—his mouth opening dramatically. Down below, I can see a piercing light forming in the back of his throat, his chest swelling and feathers rustling as fire gathers in his bosom, before…

His mouth snaps shut. He looks me up and down. “Um…” he says, glancing away shyly. An orange blush warms his cheeks. “You wouldn’t mind, like, um… Giving me your seal, right?”

“My… seal?”

“Y—yeah!” Goss says. “You know, like when you seal a letter? Or do you not have…?” His eyes look me up and down, clearly realizing as he does that I don’t really carry much of anything. “Oh, yeah, um, no, forget I said anything, it was totally dumb, I just…”

“No, no,” I say, understanding what it is he’s asking for. “We humans don’t really use seals, but we do have signatures. Would that work?”

“Signature?” he asks, skeptically.

“Yeah! All I need is some ink and a quill, and…” —And I don’t have either of those. Going by the look on Goss’ face, the chance that he owns one is in the negative. Right. My brow furrows. I look down at my claws. “Or, I mean, my claws and blood should work just fine, I think? It’ll turn brownish and gross-looking after a while, but it should still work, no?”

“Yeah!” Goss replies excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be scaly!” His face suddenly falls a little. “But don’t you need something to sign?”

“Well, yeah, but…” Frowning, I remember something I grabbed a while back that mysteriously wasn’t purged by the floor being closed. “I got just the thing.”

I summon my wanted poster from inside my inventory. While Goss is still oohing and aahing, I force him to set me down before using the palm of his hand as a desk to sign on. Simply put, I used my own blood as ink, used my sharp claws to write, and successfully jot down the worst-looking signature I’ve ever done, or even seen, for that matter. Putting the dot at the end damn near spread enough blood to hide everything else, but Goss was absolutely ecstatic about it, jumping about and overall causing a ruckus. After a minute or so, he finally calms down enough to apply logic. Hunching down, he hands the rolled up wanted poster to the priest. “Um, can you please hold this for me while I beat this human?”

The priest doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t refuse the poster. With his loot safely secured, Goss returns to me. As he reaches out to grab hold of my rat kilt, I put my hand on his finger.

“Hm?” Goss says. “What’s up?”

TRP didn’t work, nor did TRR. My claws can’t get through. My teeth don’t sink deep enough. There’s only one thing left to try.

Close to three years ago, I gained a tolerance without levels that has never improved. A tolerance whose effect has been uncertain, to say the least.

<[Death Tolerance]

Grants tolerance

towards death.>

I don’t know what this does. I don’t think it makes me unkillable. It certainly doesn’t feel like I’ve been immortal all this time. Then again, I haven’t died. Not for realsies, at least. But I don’t know. Maybe this is the only thing keeping me alive and I’ve never known.

If I used Touch of Reverse Tolerance with this, then…

“Well, Kitty?” Goss asks. I look up at him, at his excited, starry eyes. “Are you ready? My breath is awesome, it can turn absolutely anything to ash!”

I swallow a dry bit of saliva. My hand slides off his finger. “Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready.” A thought hits me and I hold up a hand before he can grab me properly. “Just—I have one last thing I want to do before I go. Is that okay?”

Goss tilts his head quizzingly. “Yeah, of course it is!”

“Thanks,” I mumble and turn to my messages. With only minor searching, I pull up the right recipient, writing in my brief but honest message.

<PrissyKittyPrincess [F25]:

Hey Moleman, ill b going now,

thank u 4 everything, im sorry

i couldnt b as good a friend as u were 2 me

bye, good luck with everythign, gg>

I send it away. Then, I turn to Goss. “Now I’m ready.”

He grins, grabs me, and lifts me again. Holding me above his open maw, I watch with calmness as the back of his throat fills with light and flames. At least it’ll be painless, I suppose.

After only a few seconds of powering up, there’s a massive rumble in his chest, thunder paradoxically coming before lightning, his forked tongue squirming in glee as flames fill his throat and his mouth and then everything else as a concentrated beam of pure WHITE flames shoots out of his mouth, bathing me in a blinding cascade of light and fire and burning, flames everywhere, and then…

The fires end. I look down at Goss. He looks up at me.

“...Why aren’t you dead?”